Chasm
by Missmishka
Summary: Missing scene from 2x09 "Triggerfinger." Glenn and Rick in the moments after leaving the bar and town. Glenn/Rick if you squint.


DISCLAIMER: The usual warnings, I claim no ownership of these characters, they are simply borrowed with love and adoration from the original creators to have their stories, thoughts or circumstances embellished on a little more than the original format had done. Not for any profit.

For JeremyLover12353 for reminding me that there aren't enough Rick/Glenn fics in this fandom but they have such angsty potential.

_**Chasm by MissMishka**_

* * *

Glenn is behind the wheel of the Silverado as they tear out of town, but he honestly has no idea if he's driving back toward the farm or not.

He had had enough instinct to do a U-turn to go back the way that they'd come into town, but aside from that he was lost in what he can only define as a panic. Despite the world going to zombie ruin, _this_ is something Glenn hasn't often felt.

He sees the road ahead in the glare of the headlights and focuses on weaving through walkers to keep the truck on that road. Over the thunder of his heart and the harsh pants of his own breath, he hears heated conversation between Rick and Hershel in the back. He tastes bile still in his own mouth along with something metallic and bitter that can only be fear with a spot of blood from biting the inside of his cheek. He feels the clammy clench of his hands on the steering wheel; feels the tremors still skittering along his tensed muscles. The scents of blood, sweat and gunfire are heavy in the vehicle; clinging to all four occupants like tangible shadows.

All of his senses are working; his mind engaged enough in the moment to identify all of this, but focus is hard. Focus is impossible with the thoughts swirling in his brain; the images playing on a bothersome loop. Maggie's "I love you" and Hershel's defeatist words from his slouch over a glass of alcohol still ring in his ears along with the sudden blasts of bullets flying from Rick's Python to kill Dave and Tony. The video of images sticks on that moment like a bad movie reel, causing Glenn to relive over and over that shocking moment when the scene with the strangers went from weirdly tense to deadly.

Glenn hadn't seen or taken the men as threats.

Even after he'd been kidnapped by Guillermo's gang in Atlanta, Glenn's first instinct is to trust in the basic good of people. It is that instinct that had led him to the group at the quarry, inspired him to save Rick in Atlanta and brought them all to the Greene farm. Glenn had not seen any harm or danger in talking to Dave and Tony, but Rick … Rick had put bullets in both men in a series of movements so quick that the motions blur in the video replay of Glenn's mind. He's seen the man's draw and aim in action on more occasions than he can count since meeting the deputy, but the targets had always before been undead dangers. Dave and Tony had been living, breathing, talking, normal guys and Rick had just…

A hand lands heavy and familiar on Glenn's shoulder to snap him from his thoughts. Despite his nerves, distraction and the heightened tensions of the moment, Glenn doesn't jump at the sudden contact nor do his hands jerk the wheel. The fingers upon him squeeze into the flesh beneath his shirt, palm pressing against the ball of his shoulder joint and Glenn just exhales a slow, steady stream of pent up oxygen.

No matter the upheaval of his thoughts, Rick's touch still grounds him. Doubts still linger as to the logic of their taking the kid rather than putting him out of his misery, but the noise in his head quiets to focus on the soothing feel of the had unconsciously massaging the tension from his shoulder.

"We need shelter for the night," Rick's voice rasp into his ear, steadying Glenn further with a new purpose.

Glenn's jaw flexes as his teeth set in determination as he focuses on getting the truck clear of zombies. It helps him some to deliberately run a few of them down, feeling their bodies bounce of the fender then watching the corpses crumble for their heads to be ground under the wheels of the vehicle. It becomes like a video game and the scoreboard in his head jumps higher with each kill.

When the targets thin out, he sharpens his eyes to focus on the houses growing sparser as they move further from town. Most of the dwelling are visibly damaged; windows shattered, doors gaping open or hanging off the hinges; evidence of blood, death and violence on most every stoop. There aren't many homes set right along the road, which is Glenn's preference for a quick getaway, so he settles on a little brick rancher tucked into the woods and barely visible from the street.

The home's windows and doors are intact, no evidence of looters having been through. The one car garage attached to the house stands open with a set of black marks on the cement flooring to serve as evidence of a hasty departure made by the owners of the property. Glenn pulls the Chevy into that garage and leaves it running as he throws the gear into park then dashes out to pull the garage door down to shut them inside.

As soon as he locks the barrier down, the engine cuts off but Rick keeps the headlights on so Glenn can see. Glenn moves along the side of the vehicle as the back door opens for the deputy to emerge. He takes the shotgun and flashlight the man gives him without question then falls into step behind him as Rick draws his Colt and leads the way to the door leading into the house. The knob turns and the white panel swings open noiselessly on well-oiled hinges; hardly surprising given that few people care to lock the door behind them when they're running for their lives.

The kitchen is the first room that they enter and a quick sweep of their flashlights shows cupboards hanging open and abandoned boxes of worldly possessions on the counter and table. Traces left of a family choosing priorities as they packed to flee with the knowledge that they'd likely never return to their home. There's more evidence of that in the den that they creep into next, photo removed from the wall and mantel with some left abandoned on the sofa and one family portrait lying shattered on the floor. Neither Rick nor Glenn bothers to look at the images of the people in that broken frame as the glass crunches under their feet.

Glenn moves to make sure the front door is locked once they verify the space empty of threat then he turns to follow Rick down the hallway to finish sweeping the residence. They exchange a quick look; quiet, familiar and speaking, then separate to search the bedrooms with Glenn taking the right and Rick the rooms on the left of the corridor. Three bedrooms, two baths and only one broken window in the back bedroom to worry about, but that's fixed by the two of them flipping up the twin bed in the room and leaning it against the window frame. There's a door that leads down to a basement, but they don't bother to go searching down there, just make sure the door is shut and block it with furniture to create a noisy hazard to warn them if anything tries to sneak up on them from down there.

The house is safe.

Finding shelter is seldom this easy and it causes them both to pause together at the end of the hallway; standing tensely together with their breathing reined to barely audible rasps as they listen intently for any noises in the home. It takes several minutes of silence to reassure their ears that their eyes were right in finding the place empty of threat.

Glenn finally eases his grip on the shotgun, though, and lowers the beam of his flashlight to the floor as his mind and body accept the dwelling to be theirs for what remains of the night. He exhales a breath he hadn't been consciously holding and leans tiredly against the wall, head thudding back against the paneling as the exhaustion of the day hits him like a body blow.

Rick's boots don't make a sound as the man moves closer and Glenn doesn't bother to open his eyes as he feels the other man invading his personal space. Rick's hand slides over the side of Glenn's neck, his fingers moving to cup the back of Glenn's head to cushion it from the wall. His thumb, big and roughened from years if cocking hammers to fire guns, seems to catch under Glenn's ear and he tries not to shiver at the familiar stroke over his sensitive earlobe.

The man doesn't do it to seduce. Rick touches to comfort and bolster his people, he does it to steady, ground and link them in moments of chaos.

Glenn relaxes once more at the man's familiar touch, memories drifting over his closed eyelids of the times before when they've stood like this to find calm together in the hell that they face. Rick moves in closer, his body pressing against Glenn's from chest to feet. His fingers flex at the back of Glenn's neck, curling in and guiding until Glenn has little choice but to move his head forward to press against Rick's.

This is done to seduce. Rick draws him in, holds him close and presses in to get what he needs.

It shouldn't work for either of them. Rick has Lori and Glenn has Maggie now, but there's something about moments like this that's pulled them together since their first meeting in Atlanta. Maybe it's something in the number of times that they've saved one another or that it's just been the two of them against the dangers that face the world, but there's _something_ between them like this.

"I'm gonna go get Hershel, let him know it's safe to come inside," Rick's beard scrapes over Glenn's jaw as the man speaks into his eat. "I need you to clear off the table. Get him a place to work. See what's here for light, food and medical supplies."

He pulls back, blue eyes staring with such intensity that Glenn is compelled to open his own eyes and look at the man.

"Can you do that for me?"

His thumb idly strokes behind Glenn's ear until he nods.

"I know this hasn't been easy for you, but I need to know that you're still with me. I'm doing what needs to be done," his voice is rough and urgent.

Glenn knows that Rick's just saying it to convince himself. He doesn't question the man's leadership or judgment. He doesn't know what the hell has happened in the last few hours, but he knows that for better or worse; he's still with Rick. Just as he knows that he can't go on like this.

The man's still talking, gruff statements of intent masking pleas for understanding and support until Glenn stops him. All it takes is his moving his hand away from the wall to press it against Rick's hip and the words stop. A breath escapes him then Rick's forehead drops to press against Glenn's shoulder as his hand moves higher until his arm is wrapping around the other man's back, hand angling to try to keep the flashlight in his grasp from digging into Rick's flesh. There's gratitude in the way Rick's body goes slack against him for just a moment in the awkward embrace and Glenn's holds tighter for just a moment.

"I'll get what you need," he gulps then breathes the words out with conviction. "It's the last I can do."

Rick goes tense against him and slowly pulls away as Glenn drops his arm then straightens away from the wall. They look at one another in the eerie glow of their downcast flashlight beams and Glenn holds the other man's stare. Glenn hadn't misspoken, he'd said that just as he meant it and they both knew it. There's surprise in Rick's eyes and something that Glenn maybe wants to be regret as the man gives a slow nod to accept the words and convey understanding of what Glenn meant.

"We'll rest and regroup here then be back in the farm come morning," Rick turns to walk back toward the garage, pausing at the door. "Maggie's lucky to have you. I'll get you back to her safely," he looks back, "that's the least I can do."

DISCLAIMER: The usual warnings, I claim no ownership of these characters, they are simply borrowed with love and adoration from the original creators to have their stories, thoughts or circumstances embellished on a little more than the original format had done. Not for any profit.


End file.
